Day five of my cross-continent tour has me shivering under the thin sheets in my Fargo, North Dakota hotel room. I got absolutely drenched in the last hour or so of my ride today. It was a sad, sogy end to a pretty awe-inspired day! More on that later.

When Brian and I parted company in Portage la Prairie, I was a pretty sad lady. I wanted to ride the first few kilometers with him. It looked like that was the case when we looked at maps, but my GPS (Gretta) told me to turn right while he turned left out of the parking lot.

We waved goodbye and I was vibrating inside. Was I ACTUALLY going to take off on my own and head east? The plan was to go to Prince Edward Island, but that was a hell of long way away! But wait. I was following my GPS which was still programmed for the hotel we were JUST leaving. I looked at my phone, and yep – I WAS supposed to turn left with Brian. I felt a bit frantic as I tried to get turned around so I could catch up with him. When I realized that wasn’t happening, I just got settled in for a lonesome ride to Fargo. The first decision on my own and it was not the right one. Sigh.

It was weird. It was windy. It was unexpectedly calming. I’d be ok though, right? My phone told me to get off the highway and head down a secondary road. I was happy to do so too because four lane highwas are no way to ride a bike!

I don’t remember which direction I was pointed at that point, but it was definitely in the direction of thunder heads. It was nice to just stop and don my rain gear without anyone thinking I was too early, to wussy, or too anything. To be clear, I highly doubt anyone ever thinks that, but that is the story I typically tell myself. All geared up, I was hot as hell, but I would be dry!

I carried on feeling like the Michelin Man in my bright orange getup, but like I said, I wasn’t about to get wet. Keep this in mind for later in my tale! So off I went and I followed my phone’s directions down some pretty boring roads: turn left, turn right, turn left, turn straight. Finally I get to the border. I rolled up to the door, hopped off to dig for my passport, and chatted with the border dudes. They checked out the stickers on my bike and then handed me my passport. I know they don’t stamp any more, but I asked anyway and flashed my old lady smile. I was quite pleased with my freshly stamped page, and loaded back on to my bike. “That wasn’t too bad” I thought. I pulled over to the side so I could make a few adjustments to my helmet and gloves when I hear a VERY LOUD “Ma’am”. MA’AM!” My heart kind of stopped a bit. I looked over my shoulder to see the border guy jogging towards me.

Gulp! What did I do wrong?

“Your sunglasses!” he says.

Oh for crying out loud! The number of times I forget my freaking shades, or lose them off my trunk, or just forget them is too many times to count on one hand! I get off to accept my shades from his hands. “Have a safe ride” he says. “I sure hope so” I think to myself!